


Something and Nothing

by victorine



Category: Adam (2009), Casino Royale (2006), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom, The Path (TV)
Genre: Actor Hannibal, Beverly Katz is the Best, Hannibal Extended Universe, Hannibal drinks beer and Will really (really) likes it, M/M, Will Graham is not a slob, Will Loves Dogs, and Hannibal thinks that's hot as hell, genuinely terrible puns, mushrooms as a means to seduction, random and inexcusable references to Twilight, though Hannibal finds certain of her habits to be unacceptable...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 10:29:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12130506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victorine/pseuds/victorine
Summary: A collection of shorts featuring Murder Husbands, Spacedogs and other pairings from the wonderful world of Hannigram AUs.





	1. How Much Is That Puppy In My Laptop?

**Author's Note:**

> Purely an exercise in indulgence, this is a place to store the ficlets I've posted to tumblr, mostly because it's easier to find them here than tangle with tumblr's tagging system!
> 
> * * *
> 
> Inspired by _that_ [video](http://vulcanplomeeksoup.tumblr.com/post/162665219100/adorable-clip-of-mads-mikkelsen-with-a-dog-or/) of Mads and a pupper who has clearly just fallen deeply in love with his ample Danish charms...

Will clicks open the email and almost immediately closes it again, seeing a link to a video that Bev almost certainly thinks is hilarious but is actually just cringingly embarrassing. He is only stopped by the message - all in bolded block capitals - Bev has included below the link.

**DO NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT DELETING THIS WITHOUT LOOKING, GRAHAM (I KNOW YOU HAVE BEEN, ADAM IN I.T. LOVES ME). WATCH IT AND SMILE, YOU MISERABLE BASTARD <3**

**P.S. THERE’S A DOG INVOLVED, I HEAR YOU LIKE THOSE.**

Will grins despite himself and wonders, not for the first time, why Bev puts so much effort into their friendship. Perhaps she’s a secret masochist.

He dutifully clicks on the video and is presented with a tastefully bland room all in shades of grey, and four people arranged in armchairs and sofas within it. Will scans their faces, finding nothing of interest in the interviewer, or the woman and man on the sofa (a couple, apparently, Will quickly surmises from their body language), and his attention is quickly drawn to the man on the far right, all silvering hair and beard, and louche yet perfect posture.

Will isn’t _entirely_ ignorant of popular culture, and this is a face that has caught his eye before. Angular, to the point of being almost skull-like, with cut-glass cheekbones and a mouth that pouts and curls in entirely unexpected ways. And yet strangely beautiful, for all that. He glances at the information below the video and finds the name: _Hannibal Lecter_. Will thinks briefly of elephants, of what an earth a person could ever be with such a name, other than an actor, of how that name might sound moaned out in the heat of pleasure…

Mostly, though, he watches, transfixed, as the beautiful man pets the equally beautiful dog – _a Bernese_ , Will thinks – that is gazing up at him from the floor. Will rather suspects he has a similar expression on his face and is glad no one is around to see it.

Then the man, Hannibal, leans down and touches his forehead to the dog’s, fond and indulgent, a warm smile spreading that unique mouth.

And, with that, Will Graham falls in love.

What a shame they’ll never meet.


	2. Nothing Comes For Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cal trusted the wrong man, now he has to face the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the amazing [hotsauce418](http://hotsauce418.tumblr.com), inspired by her Cal/Le Chiffre [video](https://hotsauce418.tumblr.com/post/164424052026/cal-borrows-some-money-from-the-wrong-man-and-he).

_Stupid. So fucking stupid, again. You’re a waste of space, a failure. You don’t deserve anything good._

Cal had let himself trust. The man had seemed so competent, so sure and confident. And qualified; a real accountant, with high-profile clients and decades of experience. Cal… well, Cal couldn’t believe his luck that someone like that had taken an interest in the Meyerists.

He had thought maybe Le Chiffre was, in some way, a little bit of Light just for him. Just when he needed it.

And Cal had enjoyed talking to him. Had enjoyed the way he gave Cal his full attention. And the way he didn’t posture or try to push Cal into submission, how he had respected him.

Seemed to. Only seemed to.

So, when Jean had kissed him, Cal hadn’t protested. Hadn’t even tried. Hell, hadn’t even thought about trying.

He’d thought…

_“If you think I won’t hurt you, Calvin, you are wrong.”_

Didn’t matter what he’d thought. Didn’t matter what Le Chiffre asked of him.

He couldn’t cross this man. After all, he knew where the bodies were buried.


	3. Thirsting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal and Will enjoy a quiet drink together...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by those completely filthy Carlsberg ads and the obscene things Mads Mikkelsen does with beer foam.

It was the beer that did it. He’d ordered it mostly to see what Hannibal would do, having only ever seen the man consume eye-wateringly expensive wine or, on occasion, spirits (and then only the most pretentiously rarefied kind). So there was no way he could have been prepared for the fine line of foam that lingered on Hannibal’s upper lip as he lowered his glass, apparently satisfied despite Will’s choice of drink costing less than a car. Certainly there was nothing he could have done to brace himself for the way, after a long moment of staring at Hannibal’s mouth - had it always curved like that? Had it always looked so red and plump and delicious, like vine fruit on the edge of bursting into overripeness? - Hannibal sucked away the foam, his bottom lip engulfing the upper with a soft, wet smack. It was lewd, and inelegant, and entirely filthy, and when his lip emerged again it glistened, pouting as if begging for attention. 

“Do it again." 

The words spilled from his mouth, unbidden and unplanned, in a husky tone that Will almost didn’t recognise as his own voice. They caused Hannibal to still for the barest fraction of a second, before he composed himself and raised an elegant eyebrow. 

"Do what, Will?" 

He accompanied the words and the quirked eyebrow with the faintest curl of a smirk, and Will was crowding him against the bar before he knew what he was doing. Uncaring of any looks he might be drawing from the other patrons, he pressed himself the length of Hannibal’s warm, strong body, and reached behind him to retrieve his abandoned glass. 

"You’re thirsty. Drink." 

Hannibal’s pupils blew wide as Will spoke, all command, no request. He raised his hand and slid it against Will’s, warm and soft in contrast to the slippery cool of the glass he took from Will’s grasp. 

"As you wish." 

Will watched, his own mouth turning dry, as Hannibal tipped the glass up, taking a long, slow pull of his drink, his eyes never leaving Will’s. If there were still other people in the room, Will wasn’t aware of them. The sound of his heartbeat and the shape of Hannibal’s lips as they opened for the glass made up the entirety of his world. 

Finally, when Will thought he might simply drain the whole glass just to spite him, Hannibal swallowed and lowered his drink. Foam once again lined his upper lip and Will descended on it, sucking it sweetly into his own mouth before moving to bite gently at Hannibal’s bottom lip, pleased when he let out a soft, almost inaudible moan. Will took advantage of his parted lips and pressed his tongue inside, desperate to be closer in any way he could. He felt Hannibal go lax and pliable against him, and dragged his fingers through silvering hair to clutch at the back of his head, keeping him in place while they kissed on and on. 

Finally, and against either man’s desires, they broke apart for air. Will, panting a little and grinning helplessly, gazed at Hannibal’s expression. He looked stunned and a little wary, watching Will with half-lidded eyes. Will’s smile softened and he lifted a hand to touch softly along the line of Hannibal’s lip. 

"You’d let me do anything I want, wouldn’t you? Everything I ask." 

"Yes. That excites you." 

"You excite me." 

Will pushed his thumb inside Hannibal’s mouth, and saw the fractional widening of Hannibal’s eyes. 

"You could bite. But you won’t, unless I ask you to. It would take a better man than me not to find that… interesting." 

Will smiled fondly as Hannibal let his teeth rest against his thumb with just the barest hint of pressure. They grazed teasingly against his skin as he pulled out and cocked an eyebrow, waiting for Hannibal’s response. 

"All these years, Will, and it took only a sip of mediocre beer to finally catch your interest." 

"You always had it, and you know it. You just didn’t know what to do with it." 

"Perhaps I required a firm hand to direct me." 

"I think that’s something we should explore, doctor." 

They shared a smirk, indulgent and full of promise, before Hannibal lifted the glass he was still clutching for a third time and drained it dry as Will watched his Adam’s apple bob and considered sucking a bruise into it. When he was done, he set the glass on the bar and looked back at Will, head tilted in insouciant challenge, lip deliberately left unclean. 

"Your round, I believe.”


	4. Food Porn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal decides to give Will a demonstration of some of the interesting qualities of a certain foodstuff...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again inspired by the awesome possum [hotsauce418](http://hotsauce418.tumblr.com) and her unerring ability to find the world's most amazing/disturbing [gifs](https://68.media.tumblr.com/553000e659e12d951ac7443f037bf3d4/tumblr_inline_ov7ncc6h811u8ep00_500.gif).

“Did you know, Will, certain mushrooms have extremely elastic qualities.”

“Oh yeah? I don’t think that’s what Stammets was drawn to, Hannibal, I think…" 

Will looked up, to be confronted by the sight of Hannibal stretching and kneading a huge mushroom. A huge mushroom, with a long shaft and a bright red head. A huge mushroom that he was handling… lasciviously was the only word.

"Hannibal?” 

“Yes Will?”

Will dragged his eyes from the bulbous head and looked at Hannibal… only to be caught fast by his friend’s dark, twinkling eyes.

“What… um… what are you doing with that mushroom?”

Hannibal’s mouth curled gently at the corner.

“Why, Will, just showing you what a fun guy I can be.”

Will swallowed. 

“Oh yeah?" 

He raised an eyebrow and reached out to stroke a finger over the mushroom’s tip. 

"I’m not sure I’m getting it, doctor. I think I might need a hands-on demonstration.”


	5. Selfie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nigel tries to be cute...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this](https://hannibal-mads-4ever.tumblr.com/post/163866541609) ridiculous yet adorable photo of Mads in the wild...

“Nigel, why are you wearing those?”

“I have heart eyes for you gorgeous.”

“That makes no sense. Are you drunk? You promised we could have sex after you went clubbing. If you’re too drunk to have sex please stay at Darko’s until you’re sober again.”

“Slightly smaller heart eyes now, darling.”


	6. Five Second Rule

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some sights that rattle even Hannibal Lecter...

Hannibal greatly enjoyed the times when he got to linger in the bowels of the FBI as he was today, leaning over a lightly putrefied body with contained fascination as Jack’s forensic team fussed around him. Admittedly, much of that enjoyment came from the fact that Will was generally nearby and often endearingly vulnerable in this environment, but even when Jack dragged Will away to his office – which he had done just ten minutes ago – Hannibal still took great pleasure in the chance to brush up on his understanding of the FBI’s inner workings. Indeed, he had spent a very entertaining forty-five minutes discussing the use of turmeric in fingerprint identification with Mr Price, the knowledge of which already had Hannibal both rethinking his post-kill clean up routine and considering whether he had anything in his freezer that might work well in a curry. Something delicate and fragrant, to go with the flank of that appalling parking attendant from the previous week, who had been sadly lacking in either quality.

It was, therefore, with pleasant images of arranging his next tableau – something involving flowers, perhaps, for Will – thronging in his head that Hannibal followed behind Price, Zeller and Ms. Katz as they made their way to the break room, having decided that they would make no further progress in the case without “choking down a disgusting amount of sugar,” according to Ms. Katz. Hannibal had nowhere pressing to be, after all, and would happily wait the whole afternoon in order to see Will again once he was released from Jack’s clutches.

That thought might have given Hannibal pause on any other day. However, just at the moment it crossed his mind, he happened to witness the greatest atrocity of his life.

“Oops, butterfingers!” Ms Katz trilled, as a glazed, rainbow-sprinkled doughnut slipped her grasp and landed on the floor, sprinkles down. And then Hannibal watched in fascinated horror as she bent to retrieve the soiled pastry, blew on it and, shrugging, said the words that struck disgust into Hannibal’s very soul.

“Five second rule!”

And then she ate it.

Hannibal had to leave the room. He wasn’t sure he could trust himself not to vomit otherwise.

* * *

Will caught up with him later in his lecture hall, where Hannibal was restoring inner harmony by rearranging the library of his mind palace. He had developed his own shelving system – the Dewey Decimal was hardly up to scratch – and was replacing some volumes of poetry when the smell of aged paper was joined by the ever-welcome scent of Will’s presence. Hannibal opened his eyes to find the profiler regarding him with a mildly concerned expression, perhaps discomfited by Hannibal’s apparent lapse into a vegetative state. Hannibal had yet to introduce Will to his palace, though of course versions of him already resided in many of its rooms.

“Hello Will,” Hannibal said, assuming a placid and affable tone in order to reassure his friend that he was perfectly well.

Will, somewhat worryingly, was not fooled, his magnificent brows drawing together in concern. Hannibal automatically catalogued the expression for future commitment to paper. He would have to find several hours soon to do so: his mental file of unrecorded images of Will was becoming somewhat unwieldy. Perhaps one day he would be able to coax Will to pose for him in the flesh. Perhaps in nothing but the flesh, his beautiful form freed from all that frumpy, everyman plaid, the firm, strong plains of his muscles exposed for Hannibal’s perusal…

“Is something wrong, Doctor?” Will asked, pulling Hannibal from his reverie, his tone brusque as ever but tinged with genuine care, the presence of which caused something to tighten painfully in Hannibal’s chest. He sighed and decided it could do no harm to inform Will of his friend’s unhygienic crassness. Will would likely brush it off as perfectly acceptable behaviour, causing a little tarnish to his appeal that Hannibal would be rather grateful of at that moment.

“Will, have you ever heard of something called the ‘Five Second Rule’?” Hannibal asked, unable to keep his mouth from twisting into a slight moue.

Will looked up at him in surprise and then slapped his hand across his eyes. “Please tell me Bev did not do that in front of you,” he groaned.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow, amused by Will’s apparent embarrassment.

“I’m afraid to say she did,” he said, gently despite his stomach lurching slightly at the thought. “You do not approve?”

“Doctor, I live with a pack of dogs. Do you really think I would eat anything that had come into contact with my floor?” Will grinned and Hannibal’s breath hitched. “And I’m pretty certain I clean my floor more than most people, present company excluded.” Hannibal’s heart skipped a beat. “I keep telling Bev she needs to stop, it’s a really filthy habit.”

And then, well, there really was nothing for it but to close the gap between them and kiss Will, firm and sure and with just the slightest brush of tongue to really get the point across.

“Hannibal!” Will pulled back and Hannibal reflected ruefully that he would have preferred the first time Will addressed him by his first name not to have been with such shock in his tone.

“I must apologise, Will. That was not how I had planned…” he trailed off as Will’s eyes snapped up to his.

“Plan? What plan? There was a plan?” Will asked, his eyebrows threatening to detach completely from his head and rocket skywards.

Ah yes, the plan. The one in which Hannibal would – with the help of Will’s rapidly worsening encephalitis – break the empath, frame him and imprison him, to be kept under lock and key until the time might come when Hannibal wished to play with Will’s brain once more. The plan which, Hannibal now realised, he had not thought through with his usual precision, because it would be inconvenient to have to visit the BSHCI every time he wished to kiss Will. The plan which would now have to be abandoned completely because there was little… there was absolutely no chance Hannibal was not going to keep kissing Will, now that he had started. Kissing and, with any luck, much, much more. Assuming Will would let him, that is.

Will, who had pulled back but not out of Hannibal’s embrace.

Will, who was looking up at Hannibal from beneath those ridiculous, beautiful lashes.

Will, who was very definitely smirking and leaning in close to whisper in his doctor’s ear, “Well, _Hannibal_ , it seems you don’t have a problem with all filthy things.”

And it was true because, as they soon found out, there were some things Hannibal was very happy to eat off the floor, even after they’d been there much longer than five seconds.


	7. He looks at you... like you're something to eat.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will finds out...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blame the possum again - this one was inspired by hotty's (allegedly) accidental use of Twilight-inspired aliases for our murder husbands...

“I think we should break up.”

Logically, Hannibal knew there was nothing genuine in Will’s suggestion. There was no scent of distress or anger emanating from his beloved, and though his tone was grim, Hannibal could easily detect the twist of amusement running beneath it. Besides, even in his most thrillingly manipulative moments, Will would never go so far as to play with Hannibal’s fear of being separated once again. They had long passed beyond those kind of cruelties.

Logic did nothing to stop the tight constriction of Hannibal’s heart on hearing the words, though, even as he raised an eyebrow in Will’s direction, schooling his features into an expression of mild curiosity.

“If you say so, my love. Might I be permitted to know what heinous indiscretion I have committed before you cast me from your presence forever?”

Will’s smirk eased the insistent, irrational tightness in his chest. This was going to be a game, then. That was good. They both enjoyed their games, now that they tended to end with Will in Hannibal’s lap, rather than Hannibal’s knife in Will’s gut.

“I’ve discovered your dirty little secret,” he said, eyes dancing with unrestrained glee.

“I assure you, dear Will, I have shared with you every one of my secrets, both dirty and clean. There is nothing left hidden between us, I am your open book,” Hannibal said, spreading his hands as if to illustrate this. It was true, Will held all the details of Hannibal’s life within him, every secret, every story, every memory that constituted Hannibal Lecter. Even Mischa.

Will’s lips split on a grin and his expression turned horribly smug. “An interesting choice of words…”

Hannibal sat a little straighter in his armchair as Will strolled into their sitting room, admiring the easy grace with which the formerly twitchy, awkward man now moved, anticipating the moment Will would deposit himself upon his waiting lap. He was a little disappointed, therefore, that instead of his warm, pliant self, Will placed, for some reason, a paperback book on Hannibal’s knees. Hannibal quirked an eyebrow at him and received only a nod towards the object in response. He looked down and froze.

The book was battered and dog-eared, far from the pristine, cloth- and leather-bound volumes Hannibal displayed in their home. Its black cover was creased with use, with a small rip in the bottom corner, but the artwork was still clear, two pale arms extending from the top edge, hands brought together in a shape faintly resembling a heart. In them was cradled a blood-red apple.

_Twilight. THE #1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER BY STEPHANIE MEYER._

“I always suspected all that fanboying over Dante was a front, but I had no idea your tastes were so… teenage,” Will gloated.

Hannibal considered whether it was too late to eat the man’s brain.


End file.
